Corpse Mountain.
The mist is thick and pervasive.
The Saint Prince paused in his steps.
He had been walking for a very, very long time.
Since stepping into Corpse Mountain, Divine Thought, Treasure, Magic... all had lost their effectiveness, and he could only rely on his inner sensing to move in the right direction.
There were times he had stopped before.
But this time, it was different.
The Saint Prince lowered his head to gaze at the ground, where a faint golden trace remained, caused by the Spirit Sun Rod's contact with the earth... he had been here before, wandering back to this point, ultimately returning to the "starting point."
Was it due to choosing the wrong direction?
Or perhaps his inner resolve was not strong enough?
"..."
The Saint Prince stood still, silent for a long time.
He truly did not know.
Deep in the mist, a figure stood in solemn silence with him.
The Saint Prince observed the ground.
The figure observed the Saint Prince.
